The Morning After
by Rachel Cabbit
Summary: Inspired by 15minficlet. Seventeen-year-old Helga Pataki has a problem. She has awoken with a hangover and in a room that is not her own, but is not entirely unfamiliar to her... however she isn't exactly alone... oneshot


This was originally inspired by the 15minuteficlet community on LJ, where you write a fic in 15 minutes after seeing a weekly prompt. Alas, this started off like that, but I was too into it to stop writing after 15 mins, and took more like half an hour to write this. Then of course, I went back to proofread and added and edited, so it developed into something different to the intentions of the 15minuteficlet community.

The prompt was Word #141 - morning.

This is just a little one-shot :) I hope to make more HA! fics in future - maybe even multi-chapter, though those are my weakness!

Hope you enjoy.

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**The Morning After**

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Helga G Pataki was awoken by the sudden realisation that the sun was burning her eyes. It was so bright, she hadn't been able to open up her eyelids. After the brightness hit her, she became aware of the pounding in her head, and the cotton-wool-like dryness of her mouth. She sat up groggily, slowly squinting a look at the room.

"Oh shit." She gasped. It wasn't her room. This wasn't her bed. Reminding herself to breathe and remain calm, she let her eyes adjust to the light. Orange and yellow carpet, blue walls, crazy mixture of 60's pattern and space age design; Helga knew this room. She been here so many times. She dreamed of this room. She squinted above her to the skylight roof, which had been her port of entrance on those occasions she had sneaked into this room in the past.

Trembling in both fear and excitement, the teenager turned to see who lay next to her in the bed.

He looked adorable when sleeping. Arnold Shortman, the object of her obsession for the past fourteen years, lay on his back, with his football-shaped head facing towards where Helga had just risen from. His mouth was open, a little drool at the corner, and she could hear him breathing softly and rhythmically in slumber. He looked as perfect as he did when she last remembered seeing him, though he was much older now.

Helga shook her head and slapped herself.

She had no time to be gazing in adoration. She had to figure out why she was here, in Arnold's bed, with what seemed like a hangover buzzing in her ears. She blushed suddenly – had something happened?

Frantically, she checked her clothes. She was wearing some, so that had to be a sign that her imagination was clearly getting carried away. Nice clothes they were too. A red spaghetti strapped shirt, with a low cut front to show off her ample bust, and tight figure hugging jeans, which seemed to be cutting off her circulation a bit after lying on the bed too long. She shakily stood up, her memory finally piecing together the lead up to this morning.

Arnold had returned. He was visiting his grandparents after being away from Hillwood for four years. After reuniting with his parents back in fifth grade, they had moved into the guest house with him and his grandparents. Everything was wonderful for the following three years, until his father got a job on the other side of the country and Arnold announced to everyone he would be joining his parents in the move. It was not surprising that after so many years apart, he would choose to go with them, but it still caught Helga by surprise, after all, she had finally gotten her heart's desire. She and Arnold had been in a relationship since their return from San Lorenzo after rescuing Arnold's parents. To have him leave after three years together, it broke her heart. Though they broke up, Arnold asked her to write to him. He wrote every week, but each letter she wrote, she would hide away, too fearful to send it. She sent messages through her friends, just to let him know she was alright, even if she felt far from it.

So, after four years, he finally decided to pay a visit over the summer. His grandparents and Gerald threw a party for his return. Helga turned up, after much hesitation, dressed to impress him with how much she had grown. At seventeen, she was now quite a looker, with a nice figure, long blonde hair and two perfectly groomed eyebrows.

She remembered seeing Arnold. She remembered Arnold seeing her. She remembered having a lot of punch, which tasted quite strongly of alcohol. It obviously hadn't mixed well with the smoothie she had taken from Miriam's storage in the refrigerator. She figured she could use a little liquid courage, and Miriam's smoothies always inspired such confidence in her. So apart from seeing Arnold and thinking he looked amazing, she couldn't remember that much else.

It would probably come back to her, but what what to do now? Did Arnold give her permission to be in his room? Should she wait for him to wake up, or should she sneak away?

She decided her lack of memory would make explaining why she was in his room awkward should he also be suffering memory-loss, it would be best she sneaked away, but just as she did so, the alarm went off.

"Hey Arnold, Hey Arnold, Hey Arnold" The potato alarm rang out.

The sleeping teen mumbled and turned over, pulling out the wire and silencing the alarm. He then turned back and blinked at the empty space beside him, and then sat up panicked.

He saw her, and immediately relaxed.

"Helga..." He sighed contently, rubbing his eyes. "I thought you'd run off."

Helga laughed nervously.

"Well, er... no not exactly, Football Head."

She rubbed her arm nervously as she shuffled on the spot. She was at a loss for what to say.

"How come you are up so early?" Her long-time crush asked, as he swung his legs round and over the side of the bed. He stretched with a yawn.

Helga watched as his shirt lifted slightly, mesmerised by the sight of a more mature Arnold. He noticed her gaze.

"Helga?"

She blushed.

"W-what? Did you say something, Football-Head?"

He smiled at the nickname.

"I asked why you were up so early. It's only 7.30am. We were up pretty late last night." He said, his voice husky from sleep.

"W-we were?" Helga blushed again. She seemed to have lost all control over her reactions to him. Stuttering stupidly in response was not how she hoped she would act when she finally saw him.

Arnold stood up and suddenly hugged her.

"Are you alright, Helga? You seem... confused."

Helga was shocked by his embrace, melted into it for a moment then finally reverted into Pataki-mode. She pulled away.

"Doi, Football-Head. Of course I'm confused! I wake up next to your drooling face without the faintest idea of how I got there or what I did last night. Not to mention my head feels like I have had a jack hammer drilling at it!" She flailed her arms dramatically. She couldn't help it. This was her defence mechanism whenever she felt uncomfortable. Luckily Arnold had seen enough of it in their 3 years of dating to understand her.

"You really were drunk then, huh?" He laughed. "Looks like I made the right call." He smirked at her, with those dreamy heavy lidded eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Helga had a feeling she shouldn't have asked. It could only be embarrassing for her.

Arnold pulled her close again, wrapping his arms around her waist. He was a little shorter than her still, but he'd grown so much. She was just a rather tall young woman.

"Helga, last night we made out. A lot. You were really bold." His cheeks flushed a little, and he averted his gaze for a moment. "You told me you wanted me."

Helga almost fainted. How could she? Blast her wanton mouth, voicing her deepest thoughts in a drunken haze. Her heart pounded the blood to her flushed cheeks as Arnold looked up and locked his green eyes to her blue. "I wanted you too. But I knew you were drunk. I didn't want to be the only one to remember our first time."

Helga's heart skipped a beat. He wanted her? Looked like her clothes had done their job. Yet Arnold was such a gentleman he didn't take advantage. She was relieved, as obviously she would not have remembered the events that would have taken place had Arnold not shown restraint.

Arnold leaned in and softly touched his lips to her own. It was gentle, loving and warm. Nostalgic. An innocent kiss like in their pre-teen years of dating.

Helga once again, could not help herself. She kissed him back, more passionately as was her way. She wrapped her arms around his neck, before snaking her hands into his blonde hair. Her tongue begged entrance to his mouth and he gratefully allowed it, returning the action. They kissed passionately for a minute or so before breaking apart for air. Both flushed and flustered they made their way to the bed and flopped down on the edge, sitting side by side.

"I really missed you, Helga."

"I missed you too, Arnold."

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Apologies for the formatting - I swear fanfiction . net hates me, as no matter what I try it comes out messy.

I hope you enjoyed my little ficlet :)


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